Sunfire Manuscript
by Heretic 1-1
Summary: Following an event known simply as 'The Calamity War', the realm has slowly begun recovering. This is not the age of Fire and Strife and Dragons. Legions of Undead do not roam lands, and threaten the lives of the living. And for thirty years, those who saw these horrors have locked themselves away from every confronting the possibility that one day, the nightmares may come alive.
1. Legend of Arlyn Sunseeker

p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"uspan style="font-size: 22.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;"The Manuscript of Sunfire/span/u/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;"Smoke. Fire. Screams. Fire roars, and blood coats the ground. A well blooded weapon grasped in her hands, she charges into the maelstrom of bodies. A man rushes forwards, two axes clutched in his hands. He charges, and as the weapon comes to deflect the blow, a blast of arcane lightening smashes into him, his body disintegrating into dust. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;"The woman casts a look towards the man, with hair tied in a messy ponytail. His immaculate robes are tattered, and a cut over his right eye stains his face crimson. /spanspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: 'Cambria',serif;""Onto the breach, Horace!" /spanspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;"He cried, before/spanspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: 'Cambria',serif;", /spanspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;"turning to face away, fire dancing at his fingertips. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;"As if on que, another man, with a Warhammer clenched in his fists, roars before her, and smashes one skeletal warrior with the staff, before spinning the hammer to cave in the head of another. She held out a hand, as if to grab him, but he was off before she could scream out to him./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;"She pursued him, but another skeletal figure danced before her, eyes a bright, sickening green that spoke of rot and decay. She raised her finely cut sword, parrying a series of jagged blows, before cutting it down in a bisecting strike. She took off, following the hole left in her bellowing companions wake. When she came upon him, he was battling three at once, and was doing well. But behind him, crept an unseen undead warrior. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;"As he cast an eye over his back, he saw a flash of brilliant light, before a ball of fire smashed the one attempting to stab him in the back. He grunted, before twirling to smash two of the three with a improbably powerful blow, caving in two skeletal helmets while the white robed savior planted her blade between the eyes of the remainder. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: 'Cambria',serif;""Horace!" /spanspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;"she cried out/spanspan style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: 'Cambria',serif;", "The breach is sealing, but we risk route! We need the Vanguard to drive them back."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;"Horace let loose a battle cry, and to her amazement, around thirty-two men formed around the ragged armored man, and began a brutal assault through the undead mob. She turned her head, red hair whipping 'round, as a/span span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;"roar echoed above the screams of dying men. Through the smoke choked sky, there was a bellowing unlike any other. And with that roar, came a smile to the lips of the desperate Cleric. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: Balthazar;" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%; font-family: 'Cambria',serif;""Galadin."/span/p 


	2. Humble Beginnings

Humble Beginnings

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"There it goes again." Thought Arya as she lay in bed. "Sister Maven is out and about. Ready to lecture about the value of 'training'. Again." She rolled over on her cot, trying to pretend she didn't hear the noise. After all, she had just been having the most pleasant dream of being snuggled by a flock of sheep in winter. They had been so warm…

Tap. Tap. Tap.

This one was more urgent, more spaced together. It was then something clicked in Arya's head, and she sprang up, filled with sudden energy. "Shi- I mean, quiet! I'm coming." She whispered, hoping she was loud enough to be heard through the door. As she deftly unbolted the doors deadbolt, and cracked it open, a small, slim figure darted inside her tiny, poorly lit room.

"Sister Arya!" said the small figure, in a delicate voice, which brimmed with over the top enthusiasm, "I brought what you asked of me! Maven, sorry, Sister Maven hasn't a clue!"

Arya let loose a slight laugh as she ventured into the room. Her fingers ran across the top of the hearth, until her fingers came upon thee tinder box. With a slight movement, she crouched down, and stuck it with her daggers fine edge, allowing a small shower of sparks to fly off into the grate. After a few tries, the sparks caught, and a fire began to crackle to laugh, more properly illuminating the interior.

Sat opposite her, barely still from her excited vibrations, was a young girl, no older than twelve, with rosy cheeks, black curly hair, and a huge smile across her lips. "Satine," Arya began, but the child cut her off, "C'mon Arya! Today's the day! I finally get to see how you do it!" With that, she produced two training swords which she had smuggled here behind her back. Arya raised a brow as Satine continued, "Please, please, please Arya! I want to do it! I'm no prim proper Shrine Maiden! I have to be useful somehow!"

Arya crossed her arms as she subsided quietly, before saying, "Satine, I made you a promise. And you know I've always kept my promises to you." The little girls face lit up brighter than a bonfire as she jumped with great energy off the bed, causing Arya to make shushing noises, unable to contain her own smiling.

"Hush now, and take your blade." She instructed, and little Satine rushed to the bed, taking hold of one of the wooden blades, and adopting an opening stance. Of what, Arya could not decipher. "Alright. First things first," she began, kneeling down next to the girl, "Dominant foot out front. Brace the rear. Hold your blade at mid-height, and breath."

The girl gave her a quizzical look, "We.. aren't fighting?" She asked, confusion creeping into the edges of her voice. Arya shook her head, "No, we are. But fighting isn't just about bashing people across the head."

"It isn't?"

Arya gave a quiet laugh at the young girls eagerness, "Well, it is, but only by those who don't know how to do it right. Those are people who go all in, and are most often to get hurt. You mustn't always be on the attack, Satine. Know when to make your enemies tire themselves out, and find the mistake."

"The mistake?"

Arya nodded, gazing somewhat bemusedly into Satines crystal blue eyes. "Everyone makes them. You must be able to defend yourself, and see where they are lax. Do they have lousy footwork? Is he putting all his strength into an attack, making him overextended? Or does he hang back and watch. This is the man you must always beware, Satine, for the one who watches will play your game against you."

The girl nodded, but Arya got the impression her head was spinning from information overload. "But for now, the basics. Back straight, eyes forward. Yes, that right. Now, how does this blade feel? A bit heavy, yeah?" Satine nodded again. "Good. Now give it a swing." Arya commanded.

Satines eyes lit up, and she brought the wooden blade down in a vertical strike. However, she had put all her force into the blow, and she nearly toppled over, unbalanced. Arya nodded, having predicted the outcome, "Easy there, Satine," she said, "Tumbling will get you hurt."

Satine looked at Arya, a mix of betrayal and hurt in her eyes. "You made me do that on purpose!" She almost cried, but caught herself before she made too much of a racket. Arya held up her hands in a placating gesture. "Easy now. I did not. I think you actually had your stance figured out really well. What did you do to break it?"

Satine stared at her for a moment, and Arya added, "You held your balance fine before. What happened to make you change that?" Satine's hurt look was retreating, and was replaced with a look of concentration. "I swung the sword." Arya nodded, and with this, Satine continued, "I swung the sword, and…and… I swung it too hard?" Arya felt a smile grace the corner of her lips, and Satine smiled too, before a troubled look crossed her eyes. "But Arya, how will I know I'm swinging it hard enough?"

Arya gave her a thoughtful look, turning the question over in her head, "You know that saying that Sister Maven says?"

"Balance in the blade, in life, and in death. Walk the line, and walk in light." Satine recited the verse, almost flawlessly. "What of it?"

Arya tilted her head at the rambunctious youth, "Well, you were unbalanced, huh? Balance will come with practice, and practice you shall get. Another time, though. For now, return these to the armory, and prepare yourself for the day."

As Satine collected the gear and her thoughts, Arya began opening her chest of drawers, withdrawing a light brown tunic which exposed her shoulders. She then gripped the leather breastplate from a stand, and fastened it around her, leaving her shoulders exposed, but her neckline protected.

Satine had made it to the door, before turning to Arya, "I'm sorry, almost forgot. Sister Mara wanted to speak with you." Arya raised her eyes at that, "Is that so. And when did she tell you this?"

Satine shuffled her feet slightly, "Before I had the swords. She was up and preparing the fires in the Shrine. Said if I was up, I may as well come and get you." Arya nodded, saying, "Thanks. Now, go. And make sure you don't get caught." Satine smiled before vanishing out the door. Arya sighed, sitting on a wooden chair and looking out over the foggy morning through the crack in the doorway. She sighed, standing up, and going to the door. Before she could shut it, a small flash of black fur bolted through the crack. Arya rolled her eyes, saying, "Shade, you know you can tell me you want to come in."

A voice from the bed replied, "I could. But I saw an opportunity, so I took it." Arya rolled her eyes at this, turning to face the voice, "Uh-huh. Sure. Should I let you out, then?" On her bed, curled up in a tiny round donut, was a medium sized cat. She yawn luxuriously, before purring out her response, "No… far to misty for my tastes. Plus, keeping an eye out for Maven was hardly the most fun I've had this life. Time for me to go on and take a nice nap. You have fun though." And with that, the black head sunk back down into the coiled black fur.

Arya shrugged, closing the door behind her and stepping out of her room. She was greeted by a cool, crisp air that brought a shock to her lungs and stripped any of her tiredness from her eyes. Mist had rolled thick and heavy over the glen, and as her booted feet tread upon the lush grass, tendrils of mist swirling around her form. No sound, just an eerie silence and swirling mist. In a state of limbo, she let her eyes close and mind wander for a moment, enjoying the serene quiet for just a moment, before opening her eyes once more.

She stepped towards the Shrine, held in her minds eye in the center of the camp. Her feet tread softly over the dewy grass and dirt paths, carved by a large number of feet pattering across the ground. As she approached, a vague shape became clear to her. A small, stone building, made from a gray form of rock. As she approached, soft edges became hard lines, and the light gray shrine took a definite shape before her. The building was about the size of a moderate stable, and had stones of white and gray. A heavy oak door, slightly ajar, was framed in a stone arch, the only carved feature upon the outside of the Shrine. Within, the reddish orange light of flames danced, casting wild shadows from within.

Arya was about to step inside the building, when she caught the sound of giggling, and a new womans voice crying, "For heavens sake, Talliah, put that down!" Arya turned, to see three shapes rushing towards the shrine. Two of them where diminutive, while the other was about her height. She immediately jumped into action, and using the fog as cover, wrangled the two fleeing girls in each arm.

The third figure emerged from the fog, breathing heavily. "Iadne bless you, Arya. These little fiends nearly got the best of me." The woman, Sister Mara, then leaned down, addressing the children. "Now, lets make a deal. You let that frog go, and I promise Arya will let you go, and there will be no punishment. Deal?"

The first child nodded quietly, but Talliah seemed to be a bit more defiant, "Oh yeah! And what if I don't?" She said with a stubbornness that privately impressed Arya, even though she knew pushing Mara wasn't perhaps the wisest idea.

"Then I'll have you scrub the floors and dishes for the week. Test me again, and you'd not like to see what I can do for you."

Her tone was serious, and even Talliah seemed to realize pushing Mara might'n be the wisest choice. "Yes'm." She said, and opened a pocket inside her robes. A small frog hopped out, and began bounding away towards the misty treeline. As she did this, Mara nodded to Arya, who released the two girls. "Make haste to the dinning hall. No one wants to miss breakfast." The two scampered off towards the hall, leaving Mara and Arya alone in the misty outdoor courtyard.

"Well now. Those girls are getting more and more excitable every day! Even little Satine is begging for a chance to go at it with the practice swords. These girls will be the death of me, someday. Oh, sorry Arya! Did Satine find you?"

"She did. Said you wanted to talk to me?"

Mara gave her a nod, "Good. Glad to see she can channel her excitement towards what I ask her to do. Now than, Maven and I went through the stocks last night. We need you to go into town to get some more food, and hopefully wood for our halls."

Arya nodded, "Alright then. Wood and food. I'm sure Holt has some Venison from his last hunt to spare. Wouldn't stop bragging about it." The women shared a laugh, before Mara sighed, "That man needs a pin to deflate that ego of his. Anyways, Maven will give you the coin, so see her before you leave."

Arya nodded, "Right. I'll leave soon. Just want to talk to Candiace before I head out." Mara nodded sagely, before heading off in the direction of the girls, leaving Arya to turn back to the open door of the shrine and step through it.

The inside of the shrine was far more consistent with design. Wooden paneled floors shone of dark oak as the door, but shined and buffed immaculately. No windows looked out upon the land, but candles lit the interior, along with a fire behind the pulpit. Three rows of benches sat on each side of a walkway in the center, making for direct access to the pulpit. On the first bench, sat a Candiace. Arya smiled as she approached the praying healer, sitting next to her, but making no noise to disturb her prayer.

After a moment of silence, Arya also bent her head, and prayed silently alongside her. After a moment, both raised their heads, whispering in unison, "By the light of the Eternal Shepard's." It was then Candiace looked to Arya, smiling, "And by the Shepard's, its good to see you, Arya. Sounded like you had some ruckus outside. What was that all about?"

Arya smiled, leaning back in her chair, "Nothing. Talliah was acting out again. Captured a toad and horrified Mara." Candiace let out a warm giggle, "Well, that's Talliah for you. As for you, I've heard a rumor they're sending you to do a run on the way to Golden Hearth. Is Maven just pitching you for work she doesn't want again?"

Candiace gave Arya a know look as she spoke these words, and her response was prefaced with a sigh, "I suppose it is. But you know how it is. And I'm not complaining, really! It means I get to step outside our Monastary, and see things. People. Even if it is a small adventure to get there. Its an adventure." The other woman stood, offering a hand to Arya, "That's true, I suppose. I'll pray to Iadne you return swiftly and safely, with new stories and dreams to tell me."

Arya took the hand of the white robed woman, pulling herself up off the bench, smiling all the while, "And if worst comes to worst, you can always heal me with those magical hands of yours." Candiace laughed, before gesturing to the door, "I'd rather you stay and talked, but the road is long, and Maven is…well, Maven. Go with Iadne, Arya." She said, and Arya nodded, walking to the door and allowing herself a glance back at her friend before stepping out into the mist.

It didn't take long for Arya to find Maven. After all, her scolding wasn't exactly subtle.

"A toad! Really now Talliah! I expected better from you!" came the high, cracking voice of the Sister. "If Mara hadn't already promised you, oh I would…would… Arya! There you are! I was wondering what was taking you. Talliah, go in and eat." She instructed the girl, who was more than happy to oblige.

Arya, however, was left out in the mist to deal with an older woman with a nose like the beak of a bird of prey. Her black hair had streaks of silver as she looked down upon the redhaired half-elf. "I assume Sister Mara has spoken to you?"

"I heard I was to go get some wood and food. Shall I take Sable and ride into town?" The older woman nodded, a watchful eye monitoring Arya, "Yes. I'm sure your friend Holt will be of some assistance in that regard. But also, Arya.. there will be a man there. He will have a patchwork cloak and a bow on his back." Arya gave a puzzled look as Maven lowered her voice, "His name is Samuel. He will ask you the name of his bow, and you are to tell him, 'Warsong'."

Arya was more confused than ever, but merely nodded at what was being told to her for the time being. Maven nodded, "Good. He will hand you a letter. I need you to hide it and bring it back to me. I'll need you to be discreet, and not bring too much attention to yourself. At least, not with him." Arya nodded, filled to the brim with questions, and Maven must have noticed this, for she said, "Follow me. We need to get your money, and your arms."

With that she turned and began headed towards the armory, where she kept and forged new weapons. It was on the individual girls to maintain their own gear, however. The building was similar to Arya's hut. However, it was slightly longer, and cut with more timber, ensuring there was room enough to house all the weapons kept within.

As they entered, and Maven shut the door, Arya began firing away questions, "Who is Samuel? Why the secrecy? Do the other sisters know?" So forceful were her questions that Maven held up her hands, saying, "Peace, peace. Firstly, the sisters. They do know, and we trust you enough to let you know. We just don't want the girls being frightened. Secondly, Samuel is the Ranger for Carovain." Arya tilted her head, so Maven continued, "A Ranger for the region. Its his job to know the terrain and gather information for the Lord. Just like the Rangers in the North, Dust, Coast, and Ranger to the King. We have an understanding with Samuel, and he wants to help us. He has information about some very suspicious ongoings."

Arya tilted her head, about to ask more, but Maven intercepted her question with an answer. "I cannot tell you what I don't know, Arya. That's why you must go to him, and get his information." She bit her lip and nodded again, and Maven gave her a tight lipped smile, "Excellent. Now, I shall get you your regular Mace… and… a dagger, for safekeeping?" Arya crossed her arms, thinking, "Bootknife. And a handaxe, if you don't mind." Maven raised an eyebrow, seeming to want to interject something. She then seemed to think better of it, and passed the weapons to Arya, along with a Bearskin cloak with leather paldrons. "This should keep you warm enough. Sable is already saddled, so you can just mount her and go."

"Aye, Sister Maven. I'll leave at once, then." The redhaired woman replied as she sheathed her Mace at her hip. "I'll return with all you've asked." And with that, she stepped outside, towards the head of the trail, and the stables.

When she arrived, she saw Sable. She was a beautiful horse, with a dark brown coat and equally soulful brown eyes. Sable gave a happy snort upon seeing Arya, who couldn't help feeling cheerful despite this strange errand Maven had sent her on. Sable and Arya had been partners, back when she a girl, and her a mare. Riding her had been one of the greatest joys Arya ever had, growing up in the Monastery. _"Though." _She thought to herself, _"It never was truly a bad life I had."_

She patted Sable, before opening her enclosure and leading her to the trail, where she mounted up, and began riding. Before long, she had come across a T intersection of a much wider, more tame trail. She took a left, and not too long, saw the sign pointing her towards the Golden Hearth. She rode in peace and quiet, enjoying the sounds of nature while Sables feet padded along the dirt trail.

She smelled town before she saw it. The smell of smoke and cooking meat made her stomach rumble, and reminded her of her missed breakfast. She nudged Sable forward slightly, eager to catch sight of the village. Cresting a small hill, the trees flanking the trail fell away, and below her in the valley sat the village of Golden Hearth. Or rather, it would have been, except for the fact that the fog had rolled in thick and heavy, making it impossible to see.

Sable gently descended the rise, and within minutes, they were within the small, wooded village. Most folks seemed to stay inside, but some were out on the street, walking about. One noticed the rider, and with a hearty smile, a heavily muscled man made his way over to her, "Well by the Shepard, what have we here?" Boomed the voice of Holt.

"Hullo Holt. Glad to see you too." Arya replied as Holt approached her, beeming up at her. "You really do know how to make an entrance, by the way. I'm sure every animal within the acre must've heard you scream." She jabbed lightly, smirking at the man, who feigned hurt, "Oh, woe is me, servant of Iadne. Forgive my transgression, and please allow my soul another try at life in my sinful world."

Arya snorted, "I'll put in a word with her. In the meantime, help me down, will you?" Holt smiled wide again, and serving as a stepping stone, allowed Arya to descend from her Sable. Holt took the reins from her, and asked, "Needin a place to stay tonight? You know my house is always open." Arya gave him an exasperated look, "Holt, just because I'm a Shepard doesn't mean I'll invoke Diens law.."

"Diens law be damned," Holt interrupted her, overriding her protests, "I offer because I want you to come by. Sigrid misses you something terrible. Apparently, she's been needing you all winter to complain about me, and I could think of no one other than you." He offered her a wink, before saying, "Though, I bet you didn't come to hear me ramble stories and my wife ramble her complaints. What brings you to town?"

Arya, who had been frankly overwhelmed at that point, now regained her voice, "Right…uhh, I'm really needing to get some wood and food. Our stores are running rather low." Holt nodded, considering her with a new seriousness, his jovial demeanor fading, "Aye. You might be hard pressed for food. We aren't doing s'well ourselves. Timber we can provide, and maybe you can bully Craevu into getting some of his meat reserves. Barrin that, I managed a good haul, so we might have some salted meat to sell."

At the butchers name, Arya wrinkled her nose, "Craevu? That man won't part with a single coin in his possession, much less meat!" Holt nodded his head at her exclamation, before saying, "Tell you what. I'll try and talk to him, see what I can do. You go talk to Tibbet. Spent most of this winter chopping wood."

Arya's brow raised, "Tibbet? Isn't he..eight?"

"Nine! But turns out he was being a bit of a hassle to me and Sigrid. Kept pestering how he wanted to use an axe, so one day I says to him, 'Alright. Wanna learn how to swing an axe?'. So I took him outside, and made him chop down trees from dawn till dusk. Started getting good at it too! Now we have a mountain of firewood, and nowhere to put it. Still, I won't give it for free, but I like you, Shepard, so I'll make you an offer. For every yard of lumber, I'll take… maybe ten copper."

Arya looked at Holt in disbelief, "Holt, that's barely anything. Fifteen, minimum." She said, trying to barter with him, but Holt had none of it. "I've set my price, and I'm satisfied. Anyways, go see Sigrid. I'll start givin Craevu the once over." And with a wink, he was gone, before Arya could even protest.


End file.
